


it's only been a lifetime (tonight you're a stranger)

by setmysoulonfire



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Childhood Friends, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Daddy Issues, F/M, Friends to Lovers, I suck at tags, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, takes place over the ten years they know each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:47:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29099778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/setmysoulonfire/pseuds/setmysoulonfire
Summary: In which Lucas Friar and Maya Hart fall in love, and it only takes them 10 years to realize it.
Relationships: Lucas Friar & Maya Hart, Lucas Friar/Maya Hart, Maya Hart & Riley Matthews
Comments: 2
Kudos: 60





	it's only been a lifetime (tonight you're a stranger)

**Author's Note:**

> long fic, hope you like it <3

**Twelve**

Maya first sees Lucas in the subway. He’s sitting, but she notices he’s tall, way taller than most people their age. She probably would’ve thought he was older, but his face tells her otherwise, the features soft and his eyes warm, even though she can’t see what color they are. And when he smiles at her, it’s tender, the kind you give your parents when you’re a kid, and Maya catches herself wanting to capture that smile. 

When he shows up at her school the next day, she’s too busy noticing Riley giving the new boy heart eyes, and making fun of her for it (she has a crush on a boy she doesn’t even know, for Christ’s sake) to even talk to him, but that night, when she’s lying in bed, she notices she still doesn’t know the color of his eyes, and wonders, just for a second, why does she care about that at all. 

Lucas quickly becomes a part of her friend group, but that doesn’t mean they’re friends. He’s Riley’s crush and Farkle’s friend, but they are the only reason she talks to him in the first place. She knows she wasn’t completely on board when he started hanging out with them. It’s weird, and a little concerning, to have someone new in her life after so many years with the same people, but eventually, she’s able to look past it for the sake of Riley’s heart (Maya still doesn’t know how her friend can like boys their age, they’re gross). 

Still, she’s always with her friends when she talks to him, and her words are not exactly kind, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Their little game is probably the only thing resembling some aspect of a friendship. She teases him, picking on his accent or his clothes, and he teases her back, acting more like a cowboy at every comment. But it still feels somehow wrong to introduce him as her friend, and sometimes she thinks she should try to learn more about him, but in the end she always decides it’s better if she doesn’t. She knows enough. Lucas is Riley’s crush, he enjoys her sarcasm and he has green eyes. 

* * *

Maya only agrees to go to his house because she knows they need to work on the project. Mr. Matthews partnered the two of them to make a fake company, and to put it in a nice way, they were far behind. She’s not happy about it. Maya hates the awkwardness of it all, and she knows that as soon as she knocks on his door it’s going to be _really_ awkward. 

It’s not that she hates Lucas, she doesn’t. He makes some funny jokes every once in a while and he’s good with her friends. But she doesn’t hate him because she doesn’t _know_ him. There’s a line, a line that says she doesn’t have to develop any sort of relationship if she doesn’t know who he is. Going to his house somehow feels like blurring the line. 

Truly, Maya is not sure of why she’s so reluctant to the idea of Lucas in her life. Maybe it’s because he seems like a good guy, and she knows those do not exist. Or maybe it’s because she already knows his life couldn’t be more different than hers. She’s pretty sure he has both his parents, and right at that moment, when she’s standing at his front door, she knows he has a nice house. She never had either of these things.

There is an abyss between the two of them, and the thought of spending the next hours looking at his side of it makes her want to run back home. 

But she doesn’t. 

Instead, she takes a deep breath and knocks on his door. A smiling woman opens it. Her hair is blonde, lighter than Lucas’s but darker than Maya’s, and it’s stuck in a messy bun. She’s thin, wearing sweatpants and a grey shirt, and her thick glasses rest on top of her head. Her smile wides when she sees Maya, and before she can say anything, the woman is already signing for her to come in. 

The house is bigger than hers, but it’s not huge. She can see it has two floors, and she gets a quick glance at the kitchen before the woman turns to her. 

\- You’re Maya, right? 

Maya nods and smiles in the most polite way she can. 

\- I’m Leslie, Luke’s mom. 

At the mention of his name, Lucas appears running down the stairs. He stops at Maya’s side, scratching the back of his neck, breath a little unhitched. He towers over Maya, and she can’t help but notice he looks different here, at his home. Vulnerable. She doesn’t quite know how to deal with that.

\- Hey. - He says softly

\- Hey. - She replies. They stare at each other for a few seconds that feel like an eternity for Maya, but it’s Lucas who breaks the eye contact, clearing his throat and looking at his mother. 

\- We’ll be in my room, Mama. - He says, smiling 

\- Alright, I’ll bring you kids some snacks after. - Leslie leaves after giving Maya another warm smile and patting Lucas’ shoulders.

Suddenly, Maya is alone with Lucas Friar in his kitchen, but thankfully he nods his head, pointing to the upper floor, before the awkwardness can truly sink in. He walks beside her until they reach his bedroom, where he opens the door for her. 

_So Lucas is a gentleman_ , she thinks. He opens doors for girls and doesn’t seem embarrassed by his mother (Maya is not sure if the latest counts as polite manners or if it’s just who he is). She’s not surprised, and she kinda likes it. 

They sit on the floor, legs crossed as they gather the supplies. It’s quiet, but the uncomfortable silence never really arrives. They start discussing the project, and after some time Leslie brings enough snacks for an entire war front. They continue to work on their project, sipping lemonade and eating what Maya thinks it’s the best blueberry pie she’s ever tasted. 

She’s not sure how much time passed when she hears a loud bang from outside his room. Maya looks up and Lucas flinches. She thinks something breaks, and then the yelling starts. She can make up most of the words, but she wishes she couldn’t. 

It’s clear that the argument had started before Mr. Friar got home. It’s ugly. But it’s not until their shouts begin to look a lot like the fights her own parents had before her father left that she looks at the boy sitting next to her. His eyes are still glued to the door, as if he stared at it long enough, it would close and silence would rule over the room again. Maya knows the expression he wears as if it is her own: fear. 

She gets up, and it’s only then that Lucas moves his eyes away from the door, following her around his room. Maya reaches the door and closes it behind her. He looks at her with curiosity, like he was expecting her to do anything but that. When his ears begin to turn red, Maya shrugs and goes back to her original seat, focusing her attention on creating their logo. 

Parents fight. It’s not a reason for him to be embarrassed. She doesn’t tell him that, though. 

And at that moment, with Maya sitting in Lucas’ room, her stomach full of blueberry pie and the closed-door blocking the shouts that just moments ago threatened to tear the comfortable silence they both found themselves in, she feels the abyss that divides their worlds shrink. 

  
  


**Fourteen**

It’s winter when Lucas shows up at Maya’s window for the first time. He taps on the glass a few times before she looks up from her drawing, and she frowns for a moment before opening it. It’s already dark outside, and Maya wraps her arms around her body. 

During the past years, their dynamic changed. The teasing never stops, and although none of them will ever say it, they don’t want to. But it’s not the only aspect of friendship anymore. Regular hangouts and occasional projects are just as common as Maya calling him Huckleberry. They aren’t best friends, but they did grow out of being the awkward acquaintances they were when they were twelve. 

\- Hey. - he says softly, as if they were meeting in front of her locker Monday morning

\- What are you doing here? - Maya doesn’t mean to sound so sharp, but it’s cold and she doesn’t really care that much. 

\- Can I come in? 

Lucas is a master at avoiding questions, Maya learned that a long time ago. She takes a step to her side, clearing his path as he climbs into her room, knocking down a frame near her window and giving Maya an apologetic face. She rolls her eyes and closes the window. She has never been a fan of winter. 

Maya turns around to find Lucas smiling. The coat wrapped around his torso makes his shoulders look broader than they really are, his boyish face looking like a separate member from the rest of his body. Maya can’t help but laugh at how much of a dork he looks like. He raises his eyebrow at her, and she just shakes her head and goes back to sit on her carpet, Lucas following her. 

Looking closely, she sees that the tip of his nose and ears match the red on his cheeks, and she thinks about laughing again, except she can’t because the only thing running through her mind is how adorable he looks. But then she notices the bags under his eyes, and how red they are, and she thinks it’s not from the cold. 

\- You know, your house-breaking skills are awful. 

\- And here I thought that after all those times I’ve seen you climb Riley’s window I could do the same. - Lucas says, a childish smile painted on his face, just like the one he gave her the very first time they met. 

\- Burglary is a gift, Huckleberry. - Maya shrugs as he gives her a small laugh. - You’re either have it or you don’t. 

Lucas chuckles and moves his eyes away from her, the smile leaving his face as he stares at the wall in front of them. 

\- What’s going on? - Maya asks after the silence starts to feel a little too heavy, softly elbowing his ribs. 

He exhales sharply and slides down his back until he’s lying on the floor. Maya rolls her eyes but joins him anyway. They stare at the ceiling, silence still surrounding them. Maya doesn’t rush him. She knows something is wrong, just like she also knows if she asked him to leave he would without any hard feelings. But she just stays silent. 

It’s a weird feeling, she thinks. How she wants to say “If you need me, I’m here”, but doesn’t because she feels he already knows that (he does). How they went from barely speaking to having this silent understanding between them. How there is so much they don’t know about one another and yet they share something so private. It scares her, but she can’t push it away.

\- My parents are fighting. Again. - Lucas shifts a little closer to her. Maya doesn’t move. - Tonight was… bad. - he sounds small. - I swear I can’t remember the last time we had a peaceful family dinner. 

Maya can feel the heaviness in his voice, and she wonders if his chest feels as tight as hers does.

\- Do you think they’re getting a divorce? - she’s not sure if it’s the right thing to say, but saying “I’m sorry” just feels wrong. 

\- God, I hope so. - his voice is low, like he is afraid she will judge him, as if he had just said something wrong. 

Neither of them says anything for a while, the weight of Lucas’s words sinking into the room. It’s doesn’t feel heavy anymore, rather incomplete, and Maya senses Lucas getting uncomfortable, which is the last thing he needs, but before she can say anything, he says:

\- I’m sorry I came here. It’s late and I didn’t mean to bother you with all of this. 

\- It’s okay. - Maya says without hesitation. And then she adds - Adults don’t know everything, they just pretend they do. 

Lucas moves his head so he’s facing her, and she does the same, noticing how the green in his eyes look darker than they usually do 

\- You’re not responsible for your parents’ screw-ups, Lucas.

His name sounds odd on her lips, her voice coming out in a whisper when she says it, too distant from Huckleberry or Ranger Rick, but it doesn’t sound bad, just new. 

He looks at her in a funny way, his nose twitching a little. If they moved just a few inches, their noses would brush. Maya shakes the thought out of her head. 

\- Is this the pep talk for kids with shitty parents? - he asks and smiles after seeing he got a laugh out of her. 

\- It gets better. - Maya says after some time. - The shouting, the fights… They don’t last forever. - she doesn’t realize she’s holding his hand until he squeezes it, letting her know he believes her. 

They go back to staring at the ceiling, her fingers still interlaced with his, and finally the comfortable silence Maya has grown used to surrounds them. She’s almost done counting every imperfection in her ceiling when Lucas asks if she wants to go get hot chocolate. 

It’s cold, the coffee shop is right down her block and Lucas is paying. It doesn’t take much convincing for her to accept. 

\- We could steal it, but I’ve heard I’m a terrible criminal. - he says after helping her get up. He hands over her coat and opens the door for her. _Always a gentleman_ , Maya thinks. 

\- Well, lucky for us I’m gifted, then. - Maya says between chuckles. 

They walk to the coffee shop together, and Maya barely notices how he still hasn’t let go of her hand, just like she barely pays attention to the fact that she likes that he didn’t. 

  
  
  


**Sixteen**

Maya isn’t looking for a boyfriend when she starts dating Zach. It just sort of happens. She has kissed a few boys before, the very first one being Zay at a truth and dare game, which, seeing as neither of them had kissed anyone before at the time, sucked. After that, she’s had a few hookups at some parties, but commitment isn’t really a part of her life. 

But then she meets Zach. He is in her art class for the semester, and she really likes his oil paintings. It’s not a surprise that they start to hang out, but she is a bit surprised when he asks her out on a date, and a little more when she says yes. He kisses her that night, and it feels nice. 

When he asks her to be his girlfriend, she’s hesitant at first. A boyfriend isn’t really what she’s looking for. She looks for other things, like the bay window with Riley and coffee shops with Lucas. Except Riley has been pretty busy with all of her after-school clubs, and Lucas had just started dating Missy Bradford. 

She accepts, thinking it’s going to be nice. She enjoys his company, and kissing him, and having a boyfriend might fit better into her’s and her friend’s high school life. She thinks Riley is going to be thrilled and Lucas won’t care that much because, well, he _is_ dating Missy Bradford. 

As it turns out, Maya actually really enjoys dating Zach. She still hasn’t properly introduced him to her friends, but it’s nice being with him. They talk about art, and she likes that he actually listens to her. He calls her beautiful and he’s sweet and gentle and caring and it’s just _so_ nice. She thinks being a girlfriend isn’t a bad thing after all. 

* * *

She’s alone with Lucas when she introduces Zach to her friends. Zay and Farkle have just left the ice cream shop, declaring they needed to check out the new legos. And after the wave of excitement washes over Riley, she’s now in best friend protective mode, and Maya thinks she will take a few more minutes “just talking” to Zach while he “just helps her pick out her ice cream flavor.” Lucas has been weirdly quiet the entire time. 

Maya doesn’t like to say he’s her best friend. She feels it carries too much weight and it’s kind of reserved for Riley. Riley is the one she’s known since she was a kid, she’s the one who was there when her father left, on her first day of school, and every other milestone she can think of. Riley is her best friend. And yet, Lucas is always on her mind when she thinks about the title. 

Ever since he climbed her window that winter night, he has been a constant presence in her house, and well, her life. But it isn’t the long talks they have late at night, the ones where he tells her about his parents and how he feels guilty that he wishes he wasn’t part of that family sometimes, or the ones where she tells him she hates her father and hates it even more that she misses him, these aren’t the things that make her think of him as her best friend. 

It’s the little things. It’s their little adventure to try every coffee shop in the city even though they know it’s impossible. It’s how he always meets her at her locker before they go to class. It’s them arguing if Tangled it’s better than Frozen (it is), it’s how he knows her order at the taco place near her house. How she always falls asleep on his shoulder during movie nights and he doesn’t move because he doesn’t want to wake her even though he really wants her to see the movie. How he hugs her when she talks about her father. How she holds his hand when he talks about his. These are the things that make her chest ache because she doesn’t really know how to label the two of them. 

He’s sitting in front of her now, his eyes carved on the floor. Maya tries to remember when he introduced Missy to the rest of the group, and if she had acted like he is acting now. She hadn’t. Sure, she already knew Missy, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little bothered that Lucas was dating her, but she had put on her best smile and told him Missy was great. She really is great, and Maya is happy she makes Lucas happy, and most of the time, she barely pays attention to the feeling in the pit of her stomach when she sees them together. 

Finally - _finally_ \- he looks at her, and she stops to pretend she’s paying attention to her sketch and meets his eyes. She wishes he was closer so she could see how they look like under this light, but the seat next to her is taken by Zach’s jacket. She’s anxious to know his thoughts, and she doesn’t try to look like she isn’t because then maybe he will realize and actually tell her. 

\- I think he’s nice. - Lucas says at last, but his tone is weird, dry, and Maya knows the smile he’s giving her is a fake one. 

She tilts her head, arching her eyebrows, and watches as Lucas takes a deep interest in his shoes. She cleans her throat and he looks back at her, but this time the small smile on his face is a real one. He looks a little embarrassed, as if he’s a kid and Maya has just caught him in a lie. His cheeks are slightly blushed and he’s inclined on his chair, hands on his pockets and his smile looks a little devilish. Maya shifts her position, trying to ignore the jump her heart just did. 

\- I do! - his voice is a little high-pitched, and Maya does her best to keep a straight face. - I just don’t really know him, that’s all. 

Maya’s expression softens a little as his smile starts to fade, because yeah, he’s trying, and she can give him a break. Lucas straightens himself on the chair and this time his face is completely serious, and she can feel her anxiety cramping back. 

\- Does he treat you okay? - his voice is low, as if depending on her answer he would start to throw punches right there and she knows he would, and _fuck_ , her heart is jumping again because he does care. Of course he does. 

She nods, which might not have been very convincing, but she’s afraid to say anything. That seems to do the trick, though, because the tension in his jaw lessens and he asks her about her drawing until Zach and Riley come back, and Zach looks just a little traumatized, and she figures it could’ve been worse. 

Zach offers to share his ice cream, but she politely refuses because she hates strawberries. When Lucas goes to buy his ice cream, he comes back with her Oreo milkshake. 

* * *

That night, when Zach kisses her harder and both of their shirts come off, the afternoon is far on her mind. He asks if she’s sure, and she feels warm when she says she is. She’s not really sure what to do, but he’s gentle during it all. As far as first times go, she figures it’s alright. 

* * *

Maya thinks there are worse ways to find out someone is cheating on you, but opening the bathroom door of a party she didn’t even want to go to in the first place to find your boyfriend kissing another girl is still a pretty shitty way to find out. She barely has time to see the surprise on Zach’s face before she’s running out of the bathroom, Zach yelling her name. 

She only stops when she’s out of the house, hiding behind it because she really, _really_ , doesn’t want anybody to see her. It’s hard to breathe. She wants to scream, or cry. She wants the floor to open up and swallow her whole. She only notices she’s crying when her vision becomes blurry. Her head rests on the wall behind her. 

_Think_. 

She needs to go, needs to get the hell away from this party, these people, Zach. 

She had a few drinks, she can’t drive. She came with Zach anyway. One beer, two shots of tequila, that’s what she’s had. Or was it three? She can’t think straight, her thoughts are foggy and she just wants to cry but she _needs_ to get out. She slides down the wall until she’s sitting on the wet grass. Her chest comes up and down as she tries to remember how to breathe. Between the crying and her miffed breathing, she manages to get her phone. 

She’s only half aware of what’s she doing, her hands shaking as she holds the phone against her ear, and so when Lucas picks up the phone, his voice rough from sleep, she’s frozen, because of course, she just has to ruin his night as well. 

\- Maya? - he asks again, sounding more alert than before 

\- I’m sorry - she whispers, because she is. She’s sorry for waking him, for trusting Zach, for getting drunk, she’s just sorry for it all, and she’s embarrassed and hurt and before she can stop herself she’s crying again. 

\- Where are you? - now his voice just sounds deadly serious. 

Maya thinks about not telling him. Tell him to go back to sleep, that she’s fine. But she’s not fine, and she knows he would come anyway. And she can’t ignore the fact that she wants him there, because maybe she had four shots of tequila and her boyfriend is a cheater and she just wants Lucas. So she tells him, and fifteen minutes later he’s kneeling in front of her.

\- Hey - he says softly, one hand on the side of her face while the other rests on top of her own. - What’s going on? - the words are barely hearable, the noise of the party drowning his voice.

He moves his thumb, stroking her cheek, and it’s the concern in his eyes, the softness in his voice, this simple act of sympathy that breaks her down. Once again, Maya cries, harder than before, sobs shaking her body. Lucas pulls her to his chest, holding her tight against him as she continues to sob. He places his chin on the top of her head, and she allows the tears to stain his shirt. 

\- Zach is cheating on me - she finally says against his chest

She feels like something breaks inside of her, and his hold on her gets tighter, as if he could glue back her broken pieces if he just hugged her strong enough. It’s just silence for a moment. 

\- I’m sorry, Maya. I’m so sorry - he kisses the top of her head. - He’s an idiot. God, he’s such an idiot.

And then Maya does the last thing she thought she would be doing this night: she laughs. It’s weak and not all happy, but it's a laugh. Because Lucas wasn’t the one who got cheated on, he wasn’t the one who cheated on her, but he is still here, rubbing circles on her back and telling her he’s sorry, and she knows he truly is and her broken heart feels warm. 

They still don’t let go for a while, even after she stops crying. When Maya lets go, she sniffs a little, Lucas still holding one of her hands. 

\- What can I do? - his eyes look soft, but Maya can see the fire in them, waiting for her to say the word so it could turn everything into ashes. 

She doesn’t say anything, though. She’s exhausted, drunk, and just really fucking sad. 

\- Can you take me home? 

He nods and helps her get up. They walk to his car together, Maya leaning to him, his arm around her shoulders. They drive in silence, and Maya falls asleep, her head resting on the window. She wakes up to Lucas lightly shaking her shoulder, door open, her building on sight. He walks her to her apartment door, and she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

\- Thank you. - she whispers. He holds her for another second.

\- Anytime. 

* * *

On Monday, she sees Zach at school, after ignoring all of his calls and texts, with a black eye. Unlike every other day, she doesn’t wait for Lucas to meet her at her locker, and finds him at his, putting his books in his backpack.

\- Were you the one who did it? - she doesn’t say hello, but she’s not mad, just concerned. 

\- Maybe. - he says, still going through his locker. 

The fact that he doesn’t even ask what she’s talking about gives her the answer, and she leans on the wall next to him. 

\- He’s not worth it, Lucas. 

She doesn’t call him Ranger Rick, or Huckleberry, and the air feels a little heavier, and he must have noticed too, because she can see his jaw clenching. But she’s serious. Zach is not worth it, and the last thing she wants it’s for Lucas to get in trouble because of her poor decisions. 

\- No. - he says, and then closes his locker and meets her eyes. - But you are. 

Maya tries to ignore the jump her heart does, and to not think about how it never jumped this way with Zach. 

\- Ready? - he asks, smiling. 

She can’t ignore the other jump when she sees his smile, but she pretends she does. 

\- Yeah. - Maya is smiling too. - Let’s go. 

  
  


**Seventeen**

\- Isn’t the boyfriend’s job to pick up the corsage? - Katy asks when they arrive at the flower shop. 

\- Usually, but seeing as Lucas is not my boyfriend I figured I could save him the trouble. - Maya turns to a different aisle, trying the hardest not to sound as annoyed as she is.

 _It’s a good day_ , she tells herself. She and her mom took the Saturday to themselves, and they’ve been going through different stores, choosing Maya’s prom dress and eating corn dogs along the way. It really has been a good day, except it’s about the eleventh time her mother makes a comment that implies Maya is secretly dating Lucas. 

Lucas had asked her to be his date to prom, _as a friend_. Riley is going with Charlie, finally giving him a chance after all those years, and Zay and Farkle decided to go solo. 

It just makes sense for her to go with Lucas. Maya is definitely not looking for anyone after Zach, and Lucas and Missy had broken up not long after that. It saves them both the trouble, and they also have the guarantee they will actually have a good time. 

Maya turns her focus to the flowers in front of her. She’s looking at a white one, the red dots on its petals capturing her attention, when she notices her mom standing next to her, a frown on her face. Katy doesn’t need to ask anything. Not again anyway. 

\- There’s nothing there, mom. - Maya rolls her eyes. - He’s my best friend. That’s all. 

After a while, Maya stopped trying to create a new label for Lucas. She can have two best friends. Plus, saying he’s her best friend is better than thinking of the labels other people give him. _Boyfriend_ being the most common one. 

\- I’m just saying… - her mother starts, following Maya as she tries to not have this conversation. - You guys spend a lot of time together, you go on dates and now he’s taking you to prom. - Katy stops in front of her daughter, making it unable for her to keep walking away. - Sounds like a boyfriend to me. 

Maya hesitates for just a second, because when she puts it like that, yeah, it does sound like a boyfriend, but Lucas is the guy she watches cartoons in her pajamas with. They eat cold pizza together and have way too many embarrassing selfies of each other. Sure, he holds her hand when they go out during the winter, and she has a few of his hoodies, but it’s just who they are. Lucas Friar is most definitely _not_ Maya’s boyfriend. 

\- I spend a lot of time with Riley too, and I don’t see you assuming I’m dating her. - Maya turns around, picking a rose out of the stand. - Lucas and I hang out together, they aren’t dates, and neither it’s prom. 

Her mother shrugs, and Maya sees it as a win. They end up not buying anything at the flower shop. Maya would’ve honestly been fine with any flower, but her mom insists that the corsage is a crucial detail that needs to look as if it was part of her dress, and unfortunately for her daughter and the two hours she spent trying to find the “right” flower, the store doesn’t have the one she needs. 

Katy has a night shift, and Maya asks her to drop her off at Lucas’s first, ignoring the look her mom gives her. 

* * *

She’s nervous. Looking at the mirror, she’s no longer paying attention to the curls of her hair falling loosely on her shoulders, the strapless red dress making them completely visible. The fact that her heels haven’t begun to hurt her feet yet, and that she looks like a woman now is far on her mind. Instead, Maya notices how her hands are shaking, how her breath is unhitched, and how fucking nervous she is. 

She tries not to think about how they are about to graduate, how she really made it through the end of high school, how college is right next door and that in less than five months she’ll be thrown into adulthood. She also tries not to think about the blond boy waiting for her in the living room. Not that she’s nervous about it, _him_ , she’s not. 

Maya takes a deep breath. Tonight she’s just a seventeen-year-old celebrating the end of something. Something bigger than she is, and embracing something new. She’s okay. She’s ready. 

Maya steps out of the room, her shoes clicking on the hallway’s floor. When she reaches the living room, Lucas is sitting on the couch, his back turned to her, tapping his foot on the floor. The armchair is taken by Katy, who immediately stops playing with the camera in her hands when she sees her daughter. She wears a proud face and a smile Maya is sure matches the one on her own lips. 

When her mother begins to get up from her seat, Lucas does the same, turning to face her. The room is silent and her heart is beating so fast she thinks they might hear it banging against her ribcage. And when her eyes meet Lucas’s she’s sure he can hear it now, because her heart is doing those weird jumps it does every once in a while when she looks at him. The green in his eyes spark a little right now, he seems like he’s frozen, and Maya is about to make a comment, say anything to fill the silence, when he simply says:

\- Wow - and just with this one word her breath catches in her throat, any word she might have been thinking a second ago are erased from her mind and die in her mouth. 

The moment stretches, and Maya doesn't know how much time passes, seconds, years. But it doesn’t matter to her. All that matters is how his eyes are fixed on her, taking her in, and she realizes she’s doing the same with him. 

He’s not wearing a tuxedo, but the black suit over the dress shirt makes him look like an adult. The image of the boy she met on the subway is as clear as this moment, but the person standing in front of her is not that boy anymore. She still wonders sometimes, how that stranger with mysterious eyes is now her best friend.

How the boy with a kind smile is now the man standing in her living room. How he got here by the front door instead of her window, the one where she took all the picture frames away from because he always knocks them down and she would rather have the memories of him climbing into her room than the ones in the pictures anyway. 

Katy clears her throat, her hands aching to take enough pictures for at least two photo albums. And just like that, the moment is gone. Lucas moves his eyes away from her, and she does the same. They take as many pictures as they can, striking poses and sticking their tongues out, before they leave, fearing Riley will actually murder them for being late. Before they head out the door, though, Lucas softly holds her wrist. 

Maya stops, turning to face him. He takes a small plastic container out of his pocket and hands it to her, a smile on his face. It’s a corsage. 

\- How did you know I needed one? 

\- Oh, please. - he takes it from her hands, opening, his fingers lightly brushing her skin when he wraps it around her wrist. - As if you have any sense of fashion. 

He’s smiling, and so is she, and suddenly Maya isn’t scared anymore. Before they leave, Katy pulls her daughter in a quick hug, whispering:

\- It’s perfect.

Maya thinks it is too. 

* * *

Her feet are hurting now, her heels abandoned somewhere near a table, and she’s sure she already has blisters, but she doesn’t care. She fast dances to slow songs with Farkle, sings every Taylor Swift song they play with Zay, and Charlie loses many dances with Riley attached to her hip, arms around her shoulders instead of his. But like Lucas, he doesn’t seem to mind. Maya decides Charlie is a good guy. 

Prom is almost over when Lucas asks her to dance. A slow song is playing, he wraps his arms around her waist, hers around his neck. They just swing, barely moving, Maya’s head resting on his chest. She holds him tighter when she realizes how natural this feels.

Maya moves her head, and now she’s facing him. Lucas is still looking at her with a certain awe, like he still hasn’t gotten over the way she looks. She probably would be blushing, but his eyes have that shade of green she loves, the one that’s just his, just Lucas. 

It hits her like a blow on her chest, how much she loves him. And she feels almost sad because this moment feels so perfect and she’s so happy she’s almost devastated because nothing will ever feel quite this right. That flame that threatens to burn in her chest, the one that makes her heart skip, feels warmer inside and she places her face against the soft fabric of his shirt, because she can’t. Because this is Lucas and he’s her best friend and she will not lose him like this. Not over this stupid feeling. She can’t. 

Maya eventually faces him again, and this time Lucas has a soft smile on his lips. 

\- What? - she asks

\- It’s just… - something flickers in his eyes, but Maya can’t really read them. - You’re my best friend. You know that, right? - he doesn’t sound slightly hesitant, and now she’s smiling too because he knows. She still tells him, though:

\- I know. - her hand runs through his hair. - You’re my best friend too. - her voice is slow, but she isn’t hesitant either. She’s sure he knows that, but she wants to tell him anyway. 

Lucas lightly bumps their foreheads, their eyes closed, and he whispers: 

\- Don’t worry. - he’s looking at her now, the same smile on his face. - I won’t tell Riley. 

Maya laughs, and then everything feels okay. His hold on her waist gets tighter but she doesn’t mind at all. They don’t let go, they just sway, burning out a glory night. Together, they dance. 

  
  


**Nineteen**

Maya doesn’t like planes, in fact, she hates them. And every time she has to get inside one of those metal death traps, once every two months, she fills Lucas’s phone with texts that go from “I’m scared” to “I hope you die, jackass”. Because he’s the one who came up with this stupid deal anyway, so he might as well suffer the consequences. 

Yet, when she lands in LA, she forgets to be annoyed at him for going to college away from New York, for suggesting that they take turns every month to visit the other in each other’s city (because, frankly, she doesn’t hate the idea _that_ much). Her fingers type the one text she truly means:

_I’m here_

She waits outside the airport, awkwardly looking from one side to another, her hold on her phone so strong her knuckles start to turn white. She doesn’t hate LA, but she doesn’t like it either. It’s too hot, too calm, and with not nearly enough coffee, the streets bubbling with crazy people who rather drink tea. Maya fits the definition of outsider perfectly, which she is, but still, and the anxiety of standing alone in this city starts to crumple up in her chest, and now she’s sure everybody is looking at her. 

Apart from that, she’s the tiniest bit anxious about seeing Lucas. The first time he came to visit her in New York, she was a pile of nerves. As if something would have changed between them, as if the fact they talked every day for hours wouldn’t be enough to compensate for their friendship. She was wrong, of course, but she still feels like this every time she steps out of a plane or waits for him at the gates of the airport. 

It kills her a little, how she’s always expecting the moment where they will fall apart. Grow up but not together. How there is a part of her who’s always suspecting this is the last trip, and that one day he will be just a warm memory, like her father’s smile. It kills her how she’s always waiting for him to leave. 

She pushes her thoughts away when her phone vibrates on her hand. One, two, three times. She doesn’t need to look to know it’s Lucas.

**Where??**

**Wait, I think I see you**

**Turn around!!!!**

Her head whips and she turns, her eyes landing on Lucas instantly. She doesn’t think twice before she’s running towards him. She doesn’t slow down when she begins to get closer, jumping a little so that her arms are tightly wrapped around him, her face buried on the spot between his neck and shoulder. 

When she feels his strong hold around her, Maya feels like she’s exhaling for the first time since she arrived. She doesn’t let him go yet. He smells like cinnamon and something else entirely, something that’s just his. Her legs are wrapped around his waist, and she thinks people must be watching them, but she doesn’t care. Not when they’re together, and he’s warm and she feels so happy. Not when he feels like coming home.

Time passes, but she’s not counting. They let go, Lucas’s hands still on her waist, and she’s smiling so much her cheeks are hurting. They stay silent for a few more seconds, just taking each other in, and Maya notices how his eyes have the lightest shade of green she’s ever seen on someone, and she adds it to her mental collection of all the colors his eyes have. 

\- Hey, Shortstack - even if she couldn’t see his smile she would’ve been able to hear it on his voice. 

\- Hi, Ranger Rick - she tilts her head, scrunching her nose a little, and she swears his eyes shine at that moment. - Missed me?

Lucas lets go of her waist, and the spot where his hands were suddenly feels cold. He rolls his eyes and picks her suitcase from the floor. 

\- Oh, you know… - he shrugs, and Maya elbows his ribs. 

\- Please, as if you could function without me. - she says, remembering very clearly that she was the one who took him to a laundry for the first time.

He throws an arm around her shoulder, laughing, and she tucks his shirt to keep her balance. They leave the airport, his laugh muffed when he kisses the crown of her head, welcomed by the heat of the City of Angels.

* * *

\- You know the grocery store is here even when I’m not, right? - Maya asks while Lucas puts a bottle of milk on the chart. 

\- Yeah, I figured that last month. - Riley was sick last month, and Maya had spent it in New York either taking care of her or rolling her eyes at Lucas’ texts. - I spent like, four hours in here and I still don’t know in which aisle the toilet paper is. 

Maya laughs, cereal crumbs falling on her chin. Lucas hates it when she opens cereal boxes in the middle of the store, so of course she makes sure to do it every time. To be fair, he only goes grocery shopping when she’s in town, she deserves a little fun. 

\- Besides, - he bends a little over the cart, lifting one of the three boxes of Pop-Tart she had picked up. - I need you to supply me with all this junk food I won’t eat.

She opens her mouth, still filled with chewed Froot Loops, and Lucas looks half amused, half disgusted, and she almost chokes because the boy makes the best faces. 

\- Cute. 

\- Well, it’s not my fault you shop like a soccer mom.

\- You mean healthy? 

\- C’mon, - she scoffs. - you couldn’t cook ramen, you don’t get to pull the healthy card on me. 

\- Just because I couldn’t cook ramen doesn’t mean I couldn’t cook at all. - he meets her eyes for just a second, and she can see a flash in them, the one that appears whenever she Hahhurs him. 

\- It’s ramen! - she says, a little too loud. - That’s like, college 101. 

\- Yeah, for you it’s like kindergarten 101. 

\- Just another reason why I fully believe you never graduated kindergarten. 

He rolls his eyes and moves them to face the shelves, Maya turning her attention to the sunglasses. She puts a green one on Lucas’s face, clearly too small for him, and when he throws his head a little she mentally curses him for looking so attractive with a kid’s sunglasses on. 

They keep walking through the aisles, the perfect picture of a mom and her annoying little kid, Maya playing the role of the five-year-old flawlessly. They _finally_ reach the liquor aisle, and Maya bounces excitedly, tugging the sleeve of Lucas’ shirt. She wanders through the hallway, dancing a little at the sound of Lucas’s laugh. 

\- Did you bring your fake ID? - she whispers, holding a bottle of tequila to her chest as if it is a Teddy Bear.

He sights and brings his hands to his pocket, pulling his wallet and showing her the document. It isn’t very believable, but the shop is almost closing, and Maya is sure everybody in there is either too tired or too annoyed to care, so it’s believable enough. 

\- You’re a bad influence. - he shoves a finger to her face, only to have her slap his hand away with the bottle

* * *

At night, after dancing around Lucas’s tiny apartment and laughing so hard their stomachs hurt, they lay sloppily on the couch, too drunk and too tired to bother. Maya has her head on his lap, and his fingers run through her hair, going from her scalp to the very tip of her blonde curls, and she closes her eyes as sleep slowly wraps her body like a warm blanket. 

\- The best part of the month is when you come to see me. - Lucas’s voice sounds close and too far at the same time. 

She opens her eyes, but he has his closed, as if what he had just said was a loud thought, but it was loud enough to make her feel wide awake and completely sober. She is frozen. And then he opens his eyes, the green eyes she loves so much, and he smiles. It’s barely there, but he looks just as sober as she feels. 

Lucas leans his head back on the couch, welcoming sleep, and Maya tries to slow her heart. To get out of the lie that she’s sober and remember she is not. She’s drunk, and confused, and most definitely _not_ in love with her best friend. But her heart won’t listen and everything hurts a little too much. Her skin feels like it is on fire from all the places he touched her, her breath stuck in her throat, her mind playing the image of his smile like a movie she’s seen a million times before and still doesn’t know the end. 

And that is what hurts the most. Not the fact that she loves him, but the realization that he might love her back. 

  
  


**Twenty-one**

As it turns out, avoiding Lucas Friar is way harder than Maya had anticipated. After that dreadful night, she tried her hardest to escape her feelings, and she succeeded for a while. They had continued to visit each other every month, and they talked every day, and Maya had thought if she ignored the way her heart jumped whenever he was around, she could just forget the whole thing. But after three months, then six, nine, the whole year, she still feels the same. 

It’s there whenever they call, or text. It’s there on her 20th birthday, on the necklace he gives her. It’s always there. Beating alongside her heart, pounding in her ears, stuck in her throat. It’s always with her, but never with them, and Maya is thinking about her mother and the hole she lives with ever since her husband left. She’s thinking about Zach and her first heartbreak. 

And finally, she’s thinking if she walks away it will be better, it will hurt less if she doesn’t have to see him leave, because every man who’s ever loved her eventually goes away with a piece of her, and she doesn’t think there will be enough left of herself if Lucas is the one leaving. 

And so she stops calling. She comes up with excuses of why she can’t go to LA and reasons for him not to visit her in New York. She goes days without answering his texts. And she tries to live her life the best way she can without the constant presence of Lucas she grew accustomed to having, she tries to go to class and paint and clean the apartment without thinking of the weight sitting on her chest. 

But she’s failing. Of course she’s failing. Because Lucas keeps calling, and he keeps texting and keeps asking her if everything is alright. He still comes to New York because “I can help you study, or clean the apartment while you study because I do it better than you and Riley together”. And he’s there, and he’s worried and he’s smiling and she is lying to him and she’s failing. Maya is failing and she feels like shit all the damn time. 

One day, after going to class, and painting, and cleaning the apartment, after letting Lucas’ call go to voicemail for the third time, the weight on her chest seems too heavy to breathe. Heavy enough to rip her heart out of her body and leave its broken pieces spread on the floor. And then she breaks. 

She reaches her room before she starts sobbing. She cries. She cries until she feels empty, and then she cries some more. She’s still crying when Riley gets home, when she wraps Maya in her arms and caresses her hair. She cries when her best friend whispers that everything will be okay. She cries because she’s the reason Lucas is not there, because her father left and she doesn’t know love. She cries because her life has been a series of heartbreaks but this time the only heart she’s breaking is her own

On her 21st birthday, Lucas calls her and tells her he wishes he was there to celebrate with her, ignoring the lame excuse she gave him of why he should stay in LA. He makes plans and Maya hangs up before he can say he loves her. She ignores Riley’s worried look and is ready to go to class and spend the rest of her day painting and legally drinking. And then she opens the door. 

He looks different then what she remembers, but then again, the last time she saw her father Maya was six years old. She’s frozen while he stumbles in his words. Something with “hey” and “sorry” and “fix things”. This feels wrong, she thinks. She wishes Riley would forget her keys and get back, she wishes Lucas would call again, she wishes the sky would fall and get her out of there. 

This is the thing she’s been thinking about for fifteen years, the scenario where her father would come back and apologize for being an asshole and explain he left because he is an asshole, and the one thing she wants to do is run away. 

_No, no, no, no, no, no_. That seems to be the only word she’s able to think of at the moment. No, she shouldn’t be the one feeling misplaced, no, she should’ve been holding someone’s hand and not the cold door handle. 

But this happening. It’s _actually_ happening. Her father stopped talking, but he’s still there and he still smells like aftershave and the door handle is too cold and then, for some miracle, Riley forgets her keys. Or she forgets something, Maya doesn’t ask, she just leaves the stranger who gave her life and best friend standing in the hallway. She just leaves it all behind until Riley’s voice is barely there and the tears are blurring her vision. 

_At least I walked away this time_ , she thinks, as if that is some kind of comfort to her shattered heart.

* * *

She doesn’t go back home for two days. She doesn’t remember much of what she did in those two days. She went to a bar, and then to some guy’s apartment. She fucked him and drank some more. She remembers feeling thankful when her phone went dead so she wouldn’t have to keep declining calls and ignoring texts. She remembers being scared to go back to her house and find her father waiting for her. She also remembers not feeling so thankful for having to walk back home in the rain with a massive hangover. 

Maya stops at the foot of her door. She takes a deep breath before opening it. As soon as she’s there, welcomed by the warmth of her place, she immediately wishes she wasn’t. Lucas jumps from his seat before the door is even closed. He looks as exhausted as she feels. Riley and Farkle come rushing from the kitchen, and for a minute, everyone is silent, their expression going from surprise she isn’t dead, then relief she isn’t dead, then confusion because she looks dead.

\- Are you okay? - Lucas asks and his voice is hoarse, Maya notices as Riley wraps her soaking self on a towel. 

Maya wants to say she is, that they don’t have to worry, but she’s tired, and her father was there and now Lucas is there. Lucas. Her Lucas. But he isn’t. He isn’t hers and he shouldn’t be here because it’s breaking her heart, and he’s breaking her heart when he’s away too. And so what she says is: 

\- You called him? - she’s looking at Riley, who looks confused and… hurt.

Maya is focusing on her, trying her best not to look at him, especially now that he’s getting close, way closer.

\- Wha... - he begins, and his expression is just like Riley’s because of course Maya is looking at him. - _Of course_ she called me. You were missing for two days!

Is he mad? He is. He’s fucking _mad_ at her. And now she’s pissed. She’s so fucking pissed. At him, because he doesn’t have a clue of _anything_ and he’s there all warm and acting like she owes him something. She’s pissed at her dad for coming back and messing everything up _again_ . She’s pissed at Riley for calling Lucas and for that guy for sleeping with her and being a jerk after and she’s so fucking pissed at herself because _she_ slept with him, and _she_ ran away before her father had a chance to fix something, and _she_ worried Riley and made her call Lucas and _she’s_ the one who didn’t tell Lucas anything and is walking away from him. 

\- Are you serious right now? - Maya’s walking towards him now, looking him dead in the eye. - Are you _fucking_ serious right now?

Lucas’s mouth opens and closes again, and he’s about to open it again but she’s not finished. 

\- Are you really going to stand there and act like what I did was something so wrong, so unthinkable? As if I’m the bad guy because I went away for a couple of days after my fucking father, who I hadn‘t seen for fifteen years, knocked on my door!?

She barely notices Riley and Farkle stepping out of the room, her attention focusing on how Lucas’s face is twitching with anger and regret. He wants to say something, she can see it, but she also has plenty to say. 

\- This is what I do, Lucas! - she’s screaming now. - I run away! _He’s_ the reason I run away and you should know that, you should know that better than anyone! How many times did I tell you about this, about him, and how fucked up I am because of this? You don’t get act surprised, you don’t get to be mad at me. He was back, and I panicked, and I-

\- You were gone! - he cuts her, and he sounds so hurt she actually takes a step back. - You were gone. - he repeats, his voice low, as if she would disappear again if he spoke it too loud. - I know how you feel, and I’m not mad, I’m not. But damn it, Maya. You were hurt, and you were missing and I was absolutely terrified because you were _gone_. 

She looks away, because the sight of hurt Lucas is not something she can bear to watch. Angry Lucas, frustrated and shouting Lucas? She can manage that just fine. But she can almost grasp his pain now, the pain she caused. 

_Make him leave_ , her minds tell her. _Get him out of his misery._ It’s so loud she can’t really listen to the tiny, little voice telling her that the only reason he is hurt is because she wasn’t there. Her chest tightens when she opens her mouth again. This is gonna hurt. 

\- You didn’t have to come here. - she murmurs, and she’s flinching because this is going to be bad and she can’t even look him in the eye. 

Lucas looks at her as if she is a stranger, as if she is a stranger who just took a piece of him. Maybe she did.

\- Yes, I did. - he sounds so sure, as if there weren’t any other possibilities but that one, like there isn’t any other place he should’ve been at the moment. 

Maya wants him to scream, to call her insensible, to storm out of her apartment. She wants him to hate her. But he’s there and he is just so _calm._

\- No, you didn’t! - _Leave! Please get out while you still can,_ she thinks. - Why did you come here? You should be in LA, without any of this mess, you shouldn’t be here! - _Stop hurting him, make him go_ \- Why, just why ar-

\- Because I love you! - silence. Everywhere. - I’m in love with you. - he breathes, and he’s walking towards her and she thinks she should move but his words make her freeze in place. 

The green in his eyes look dark, but now he is so close to her face she can see the light spots in them. They’re breathing the same air and he’s telling her he loves her and her mind is empty. When his hands cup her face, their nose barely brushing, she’s pretty sure her brain is exploding. 

\- Maya, - he says in a whisper. - I have been in love with you since we were twelve years old. 

And then he kisses her. She clutches at his shirt, and then he’s kissing her with passion, his lips hot against hers, his hands are on her back and she just melts. They break away slowly, still holding each other, their foreheads touching. 

And, of course, now is the moment her brain starts working again. And it’s telling her that this was a mistake. That it doesn’t matter if she thought she was more than just a broken little thing, because when her father appeared she proved that was all she was ever going to be. It’s telling her she’s going to poison him, just like she does with everything else and it’s all too much, and it’s all true and-

\- I think you should go. - it doesn’t even sound like her own voice, but it is, and she doesn’t want to be backing away from him, but she is.

\- What? - Lucas has never sounded so wrecked.

\- Please, just go away. - she’s staring at the floor, hoping he doesn’t see her tears falling down, but he probably can hear them in her voice. 

He gets his things in a flash, she can’t see him anymore. The door closes after her, and, just like the pieces of what was once her heart, she falls. 

  
  


**Twenty-Two**

For eight months, Lucas is a gosht. They don’t talk, they don’t see each other. Maya doesn’t ask about him, and she doubts he asks about her. It’s hard, to say the least. She tries to fill her time as best as she can, taking extra classes, running errands for everybody, cleaning her apartment on weekends. She goes out with Riley and Farkle, she paints until early hours in the morning and does everything she can to leave her tired enough so that she doesn’t have to think, feel, or even dream. 

Most of the time, she’s either exhausted or missing him.

It happens Friday night. Or rather, she finds out Friday night. Maya gets home with two canvas under her arm, balancing her open backpack on her shoulder and the books in her hand, so she doesn’t notice Riley sitting behind their kitchen counter until she, carefully, throws all of her things and her coat on the couch. 

\- Hey. - she greets, going straight to the fridge. - You’re home early

When Riley doesn’t respond, Maya turns, and she’s taken a little aback by the look on the brunette’s face. Riley looks in shock, her eyes fixed on nothing, and she gives Maya no sign that she even knows she’s home. She’s clutching on her phone so hard her knuckles are white. 

\- Riley. - Maya tries again, her voice soft as she holds her free hand. Riley jolts with the touch, as if she’s waking up, but her eyes are agitated, darker than usual. - What’s wrong?

\- It’s Lucas. - Riley’s voice is raspy, but Maya doesn’t pay much attention to that, the feeling of her heart dropping to her stomach taking her focus. Riley tightens her hold on her hand, which must mean she’s more alert now. - His father is dead. 

The weight on her stomach is gone, but it’s back in a second when she realizes what is going on. She thought something had happened to Lucas, that he was hurt, and the relief she felt when she knew he wasn’t at some hospital reminded her how to breathe. But he is hurt, isn’t he? It doesn’t take much effort for her to ignore that little piece of her that is upset he didn’t tell her because _Lucas’ father is dead_. 

The man who divorced his mom after years of fighting, the man who Lucas rant about so many times over the course of the years. The man wasn’t great, but he was good, and no matter what happened, Lucas loved him. He loved him and now he is dead. 

Maya tries to organize her thoughts. Should she go to him? Is he in LA or was he here when it happened? _How_ did this even happen? Should she text him, or will she be just another “I’m so sorry for loss” text? Should she call him? Is his number still the same? Does he even want her to? He probably doesn’t, but she feels she has to do something, she just doesn’t know what.

\- The funeral is tomorrow. - Riley says, bringing her back.

And suddenly, she knows what to do. 

* * *

She waits. Standing where he can’t see her, Maya waits during the eulogies, she waits when they bury Lucas’ father six feet under, she waits while people give him hugs and handshakes and “I’m sorry” and “Call me if you need anything”. She stands there in the graveyard, chills all over her body, clutching at her black coat, and her feet begin to hurt because when she put on her heels this morning she didn’t think she would be standing the whole funeral. 

But when people start leaving, and Lucas sits on a bench, she pays no attention to her heels as she walks towards him. She feels like she’s floating outside of her body, as if she can see herself crossing the distance between them, but she’s not actually doing it. But then she stops, and they’re three feet away, but he doesn’t see her because he’s looking at his shoes and now Maya is not floating anymore, because he’s there. After eight months, he’s there and she could touch him so easily, but she won’t do that. She won’t do that because he’s heartbroken and he doesn’t see her yet. 

And just like she did the entire funeral, she waits. She waits until he slowly lifts his gaze and his beautiful, sad green eyes are looking at her. For a second, they don’t say anything, both their minds working a reaction to seeing a ghost. But then he frowns, softly, like he doesn’t have the energy to properly ask her what the hell she’s doing there. 

\- Hi, - she says, like an idiot. - Look, I know you hate me right now, and if you want to, just say the word and I’m gone, but... - her throat feels tight and she has no idea what to say next. 

Lucas is still looking at her as if he can’t believe she’s actually there. Or maybe he’s looking at her as if he can’t believe she had the nerve to show up. And he’s right, because they haven’t talked in eight months and now she’s at his dad’s funeral. Maya feels stupid, and embarrassed, and guilty and she begins to walk away, but then she hears:

\- What are you doing here, Maya? - and she stops moving, because his voice is like a magnet, and it’s just her and his green eyes in the cold graveyard. 

\- I didn’t want you to be alone. 

But that’s not true, is it? Because he isn’t alone, not really, and she knows that. He has his family, and Riley, and Farkle, and a very big support system. She just didn’t want him to be without her. 

Maya thinks he wants to tell her to leave. But she’s not going this time, not until he asks her to. Lucas moves a little to his left, an invitation. She takes her seat, exhaling like she hasn’t breathed for ages. There is so much space between them, so much more than the physical one, but she’s here. She’s here this time. 

\- I really hate funerals. - Lucas says after what feels like an eternity of silence.

\- I know. - Maya responds, the faintest smiles on her lips when she remembers when he told her about some distant aunt of his and how he almost threw up in her coffin.

\- I really wanna get out of here. - he meets her face, and it hurts to look at his eyes, but it hurts even more when she’s not looking.

\- Then let’s go. 

Maya drives his old pickup truck. Lucas gives her the instructions, telling her where to turn, but other than that they’re silent. He looks at his window, not sleeping, but barely moving, and even though he was a ghost for so long in her head, now he actually _looks_ like one. He has dark bags under his eyes, his hair is a mess, and he lost the tie he was wearing. But Maya keeps driving, turning when he tells her to.

She doesn’t know where they’re going. Not his mom’s place, Leslie moved back to Texas a few years after the divorce. Lucas lives in LA, and she went to his father’s house enough times to know that this is not the way to his house. But he could have moved during the time she and Lucas weren’t talking, she remembers, and the thought stings a little. 

Lucas tells her to pull up in front of a building she has never seen before. She pulls the key out of the ignition, takes a deep breath, and looks at him. She means to ask him where they are, but she doesn’t know how to talk to him anymore. She doesn’t know how to ask a simple question, or comfort him, or apologize, and it doesn’t even hurt because it just feels _wrong_. Talking is what they’re good at, it’s what they do best, but now they sit in his car with just the city noises outside to fill the silence. 

\- Are you staying here with a friend? - she sounds ridiculous.

Lucas blinks fast, like he’s waking up. Then he looks at her like he doesn’t know how to answer her question, which was a ridiculous one, but still answerable. He clears his throat.

\- No, this, - he moves his eyes away from hers. - this is my place.

Her hands fall on her lap, her fingers feel numb inside her gloves. She feels numb inside her skin. 

\- I moved here a couple of weeks ago. Moved back, I guess. - if it’s a joke, they don’t laugh. - I figured Riley would’ve told you. 

\- Oh. - is all she can say. 

Lucas is back. Back in New York, so close, and she didn’t know. God, it isn’t supposed to hurt this much. 

They walk into his apartment after an awkward elevator ride. It’s bigger than his old place, and the furniture is mostly unopened boxes, apart from his old couch in the middle of what she guesses is the living room. 

Lucas disappears into the kitchen, and comes back with a bottle of tequila in his hands, opening the lid with his mouth and sinking into the couch. Maya shifts her weight to her right leg. Ever since the first time she went to his house, when they were just twelve years old, she had never felt like she didn’t belong wherever he was. Until now. 

She gives up waiting, for what she doesn’t know yet, and sits next to him, always with a distance that feels like they’re miles and miles apart. Lucas chugs a fair amount of the liquor all at once. He might as well be on another planet, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular, the bottle loosely in his hands. Maya feels she could drown in the silence. 

He passes her the bottle, not looking, never looking. She takes it gladly, drowning in tequila sounds way better than drowning in the silence. The drink burns her throat, and she drinks again until the burn becomes a warm feeling in her stomach. 

She gives the bottle back to Lucas, and watches him lifting it to his lips, but he stops abruptly.

\- I didn’t say goodbye. - if Maya weren’t looking at him, she probably wouldn’t have heard anything. 

\- I know everybody says that, - he gives her a humorless laugh. - but I went out to the grocery shop. We were cooking, and we ran out of something, and I said “I’ll go to the grocery shop”. - Maya moves closer to him, just a little, but he seems so lost she’s afraid he’ll float away and she won’t be able to drag him back. 

\- I should’ve said goodbye. I always do. Did. - the word sounds bitter in his mouth, and he takes another sip. - I didn’t say goodbye, and when I got back his heart had stopped and he was dead. - he laughs that weird, sad laugh again, and Maya winces. - He was fucking dead. 

\- Lucas… - she says, but her voice is low, and she doesn’t think he’s finished, so all she really does is move a little closer to him. 

\- I should’ve said thank you. - his voice isn’t muffed anymore, and he frowns, as if he’s remembering a list of all the things he should’ve said to his father. - He wasn’t perfect, but he cooked, a-and he taught how to play baseball and ride horses and equations. He was always there for me, and he _loved_ me. God, - he breathes, running his fingers through his hair. - he was a great dad. He was a great dad, and he loved and now he’s dead. 

He looks at her now, really looks at her, like she’s the only real thing in the room, and they’re so close now she can see his watery eyes. His breathing is fast and now he’s crying, tears running down his face, and before Maya can even process what she’s doing, she holds him. And it feels right, just so fucking right. 

He sobs in her arms and she cries too, because during the past eight months, she had this tiny piece of hope that told her in some alternative reality she could fix things. She could apologize and tell him she loves him and everything would be okay. But not this. She could never fix this. 

They stay like that for hours, long after the sunset. They’re laying on the couch now, their legs intertwined and his arm around her waist. Their foreheads are touching and Maya feels his breath on her face when he says, so low and soft she wonders if she’s dreaming:

\- Stay. 

And this is so different from the last time she saw him. No one is missing, or soaking wet. And yet it’s so similar. Because he’s looking at her with these same eyes, and he’s asking her to stay, and she has the choice to leave all over again. But she is going to make it right this time, so she says what she wishes she had said that night. 

\- I’m not going anywhere. 

* * *

When Maya wakes up the next morning, it takes her a minute to remember where she is. She turns her sore neck towards the kitchen, where she spots Lucas’ back. She considers sneaking out, but the thought makes her head hurt. She gets up, and the smell of coffee fills the apartment. 

When Lucas turns, he fills two cups on the counter, as if he did that every day. She sits in front of him as he pours the second cup. 

\- I thought I was supposed to cook. 

\- It’s just coffee. - he hands her the mug. - And you can’t cook. - he says matter of factly, a small smile on his lips when he takes a small sip.

She lifts her own cup to her lips. God, she missed his coffee. They drink in silence, and it’s not normal, but it isn’t awkward either, it’s just.... new. 

But then she’s done, and Maya looks at him. The bags under his eyes are almost gone, but they’re a little pink and his face is a little puffy. He’s still sad, of course. He’s devastated, and she fights the urge to hug him. He wouldn’t like that right now. She wonders if he would still like her there. 

Maybe she was some sort of comfort to him last night, a piece of his old life, the one where his dad was still alive and they still talked. And maybe that’s all she was. Maybe he wants her gone in the morning, but he won’t say it because he’s Lucas and he would never hurt her the way she hurt him. The possibility makes her chest feel tight, but it would be only fair for him to feel that at this point. 

Lucas finishes drinking and puts their mugs in the sink. He’s standing with his back pressed against it, the counter separating him from Maya, and he’s looking at some particular spot on the wall where absolutely nothing is. Maya looks down, pretending to pick at her nails, when he says:

\- I don’t hate you. - She snaps her head, and his eyes are burning on her skin. She must've made a face, because he shrugs and walks until he’s towering over her. - Last night. You said I hated you. I don’t. 

It takes everything in her not to cry. Lucas doesn’t hate her, he should, but he doesn’t. And it’s like she can breathe again but she shouldn’t feel this relieved because he’s making her feel better after his dad had just _died_. So she puts her brave face on, takes a deep breath, and looks into his green eyes. 

\- I don’t need assurance or comfort. - she really hopes her smile doesn’t look as sad as she feels. - I came because I wanted to make sure you weren’t alone. You don’t need to give me anything. 

She looks away because a girl can only take so much. But then she feels the warm comfort she craves all the damn time. He places his hand on top of hers, feather-light touches of his fingers on her wrist, and she might as well combust at this very moment. She missed his touch, his eyes, his smile. She missed him. 

\- Thank you. For making sure I wasn’t alone. 

His smile is barely there, but it’s as real as hers is. She thinks she can stay like this forever, just her, Lucas, and the feeling of belonging she hasn’t felt in so long. But then her phone rings, and as if they snap out of a trance, she takes her hand away from his like it’s on fire. 

\- It’s Riley. - she tells him after assuring Riley she was alive and well and apologizing for not calling earlier. 

He nods, and Maya notices they’re practically on polar sides of his house. It’s a painful reminder of the distance there is between them, the abysm she created it. 

\- I think I should go. 

\- Yeah, uhm, yeah, okay. - he murmurs, pacing around the kitchen and paying special attention to the floor. 

She gathers her things, all speared through his apartment, and heads towards the door. Lucas opens it for her, and she’s halfway out when he says behind her:

\- Maybe you could come back. - She turns, and his cheeks are turning red, but at least he’s not looking away anymore. - If you like. - he adds, scratching the back of his neck. 

It’s the second time she has to force herself not to cry. But she smiles at him, so wide it hurts.

\- Yeah, I would like that. - his smile matches hers. - I would like that very much. 

* * *

It feels normal again. Actually, no, it doesn’t, but everything is so much better now. At first, they were very weird around each other, as if they were kids all over again, not knowing what to say or how close they could get to one another. But they learned how to work together again. 

They don’t talk about that night, but it’s always there in the back of their minds. Maya won’t say anything. She’s afraid he’ll say he’s over her, that he doesn’t love her anymore, and she’s terrified he’ll say he still does. 

Every day she thinks “today is the day”, the day she’ll tell him how she really feels. But then he plays with her hair, or calls her out on her eating habits, or tells a terrible joke, and she remembers just how miserable it was not to have Lucas in her life. And she’s fully aware of how hypocritical she sounds because the reason she lost him the first time was that she hid her feelings. But the fear crawling her spine feels like an entire whole member of her body, and sometimes it’s just so suffocating that the only thing she can do is tell herself she’ll say everything trapped inside of her the next day. 

It’s not a grand moment when it happens. She’s walking to his place, the path just as familiar as walking to her own house, and it starts to rain. It’s light at first, and the sun isn’t hidden behind the trees, and it just hits her. Because she’s standing in the rain, and she’s smiling because the park looks like somewhere she would like to capture in a painting, and the only thing that could make this better is for him to be there. 

Maya only processes she ran all the way to his place when she’s panting at his door. She’s soaked, and the water dripping from her hair forms a pool on the floor. She has a key to his place, attached to her key-change next to the pepper spray Farkle gave her, and Lucas has one for hers. But she doesn’t use it. This time is different. This time he needs to let her in and she needs to stay. 

She knocks on the door, the sound ringing in her ears, but it doesn’t last much because Lucas answers it after the fourth knock. He looks uneasy to see her like that, his arm already stretching to welcome her in, but she doesn’t let him say anything. 

\- I love you. - she blurts. He drops his arm. 

It’s as if the air is heavy. Part of her wants to run away, wants him to slam the door, but she’s looking into his eyes, the same green eyes she’s been in love with for so long, and her heart is jumping the way it always does when he’s around and she’s just so filled with love for the man standing in front of her that she knows she can’t move. She could never move away from him. 

\- I love you. - she says again, slower, calmer, certain. - I’m in love with you. - Maya can breathe again. 

Lucas is still frozen in place, and to add insult to injury, Maya doesn’t stop. It isn’t like that night. The words flying out of her mouth back then were out of anger and frustration, and she regretted everything she had said the minute she spoke them out loud. But right now she’s saying everything she wanted to say for the past year. Hell, for the past decade. It’s everything she feels about Lucas and could never describe it. 

\- I know I don’t have the right to say this to you, not anymore, but I love you. - He says nothing. - And that night? I meant to say it. God, I wanted to say it so bad. But I was terrified, I still am. And I also know it doesn’t excuse anything I did, but I need you to know, I really, _really_ , need you to know. - Nothing.

\- I’m sorry. I am so sorry and I don’t think I’ll ever stop being sorry. I’m sorry for pushing you away, I’m sorry for not trusting you enough with all of my shit and I’m sorry - she stops, it hurts to say the next part. - I’m sorry for breaking your heart. 

\- You have every right to hate me, but that night in my apartment you told me you have been in love with me since we were twelve. - she can picture it so clearly - And it took me so long to realize it, but it’s always been there. From that first, stupid project we did together, I love you. - she can’t stop saying it. - You’re the first person I want to talk to when I wake up, and I crave your coffee in the morning. When things are bad I want you to hold my hand, and I want two guess parties with you and tequila and falling asleep on the couch.

\- I want the coffee shops and the warm hugs after long days and you reading while I paint. And I don’t want that with anybody else because most of all I just want you! - she pauses to catch her breath, and Maya truly believes Lucas hasn’t moved a single muscle. - Lucas, you’re my best friend. You’re my best friend and I’m in love with you. 

She takes a long, needed breath. Lucas is staring at her like she’s a puzzle he can’t figure it out by the life of him. The silence seems to crush her chest, and she takes a small step back. She’s not planning on leaving, not unless he tells her to, but Lucas must think she will because the next thing she knows his hands are cupping her face and she can feel his breath on her skin. 

\- Can I? - he asks so softly she forgets how cold she is.

She nods, not trusting herself to say anything more, and his lips find hers. Kissing Lucas feels like breathing. It’s slow and delicate at first, like this moment is so fragile it might break. But then he’s kissing her hard, open-mouthed, and desperate. His fingers sink in her hair when she makes a throaty sound, and she clings to his shirt like everything around them is water and he’s the only thing keeping her from drowning. 

They break apart, still holding on to one another, chest rising and their mouths red. Lucas rest his forehead on hers, and when he speaks, so certain, so _happy_ , she melts:

\- I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.

* * *

She didn’t imagine kissing Lucas would feel like this, but now, inside his apartment and kissing and saying “I love you”, it feels right. It feels more than right, it feels-

\- I love you so much, Maya 

It feels like home.

**Author's Note:**

> this took me forever to write because i kept losing motivation but it's here!!!! this story means a lot to me and I hope you like it. follow me on Instagram (@allmayaharted) for more gmw content, I'm more active there, I promise. Love you, stay safe


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